


Taking Flight

by Higuchimon



Series: Hidden Truths [1]
Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Advent Calendar 2015, Christmas Wreath Challenge, Diversity Writing Challenge, Gen, New Year's Mini-Advent 2015-2016, Spoilers for Breeds-Universe In here, This Is Another Breeds-Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higuchimon/pseuds/Higuchimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miyako hasn't been feeling well lately.  Is it just a common illness or could it have a more digital origin?  And if the latter, how does she deal with it?  And to make matters more complicated, a favor for a friend ends up unleashing a new enemy, sired by an old one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Series Title:** Hidden Truths|| **Story Title:** Taking Flight  
 **Main Characters:** Miyako, Jou|| **Minor Characters:** Koushirou, Hououmon  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 4,131||story: 4,131|| **Chapters:** 1/5  
 **Genre:** Adventure, Friendship|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** Diversity Writing Challenge, section J10, a multichap with no prologue or epilogue; Christmas Wreath Challenge; New Year's Mini-Advent 2015-2016, start a fic you have yet to post; Advent 2015-2016 Calendar, day #22, write an AU  
 **Notes:** This takes place about six years after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. It doesn't acknowledge the 02 epilogue or Tri. It also takes place in my breed-universe, while it is not connected to anything else I've posted related to said universe.   
**Summary:** Miyako hasn't been feeling well lately. Is it just a common illness or could it have a more digital origin? And if the latter, how does she deal with it? And to make matters more complicated, a favor for a friend ends up unleashing a new enemy, sired by an old one.

* * *

Miyako rolled over, stuffed her head under the pillow, and tried her best to stay asleep. She didn't want to be awake, not with the way that her head hurt and her arms hurt and her _back_ hurt. 

Not her back, precisely, the logical part of her dictated. Her shoulders were where the pain centered. She wanted to take something for it, but nothing she'd tried worked. Even going to Jou hadn't done anything but produce a suggestion to not carry her books on her shoulders that much. 

He'd tried. She knew he had; they'd both tried to figure out what was wrong, and that was the best that they could come up with. Granted, he wasn't a full doctor yet, but she didn't really feel comfortable going to a full doctor with just 'I hurt some' to tell them. It was so ridiculous. She was barely nineteen, she shouldn't be having problems like this. 

Shifting onto her stomach eased the strain a little, enough so that she could start to relax. She needed that; she needed to rest so she could get back to her studies once she actually woke up. 

_Maybe I should take more online classes._ That might help; she wouldn't have to worry about carrying books everywhere then. She hated the thought; it felt far too much like failure. But when she could barely study because of the pains in her arms and shoulders, what else could she do? Getting the work done meant the most, and if that was what she had to do so she could, then she'd do it. 

Well, she'd think about it, anyway. If she made up her mind to do it, it wouldn't be hard to arrange, not with Koushirou to help her. He took plenty of online classes himself, though he did his mostly because he also spent plenty of time in the Digital World, for a multitude of reasons. 

Miyako cracked one eye carefully to check the time, then slammed it closed again. She still had at least thirty minutes before she absolutely needed to get up. She wasn't going to waste a single one of those minutes doing anything but resting, especially now that her aches and pains had eased enough so that she could do so. 

Unfortunately, the rest of her family hadn't caught word that she needed perfect peace in order to rest. They weren't making too much noise, but like it or not, she heard Mantarou humming a bit louder than she would've liked, and Momoe had some kind of music playing in her room. 

_That usually doesn't bother me, though._ Miyako frowned at that, then dismissed the thought and screwed her eyes even farther shut. She didn't know if it were possible, but she did it anyway. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. She told herself that over and over, vaguely wondering if it might not be such a bad idea to try to grab a nap or two in the Digital World. It would be quieter, surely. 

Somewhere she drifted off. Between one moment and the next, she found herself surrounded by the endless expanse of the sky, her arms stretched out to each side as if she were flying like in one of those old movies. There wasn't any sign of Hawkmon, regardless of evolution, around her. She flew completely on her own, ruling the skies. 

Somewhere ahead of her was someone else, though, someone she knew and didn't know at the same time. In her dream, she knew exactly who it was, but the part of her that was aware of dreaming had no idea of who this might be. But she trusted whoever it was not to guide her wrong. 

_Come. Come to me._ The voice rang no bells and held no compulsion. This wasn't a command, this was a request. _Come, please, child. You'll need me soon. You'll need the skies._

Miyako's eyes flew open and she stared at her bedroom ceiling. She wasn't afraid. There'd been nothing at all of fear there, only of longing, of emotions that she'd never felt so strongly before. 

To need the skies? But she flew a lot with Hawkmon. At least once or twice a week, just like Sora-san did with Birdramon. Both of them enjoyed flying with their partners. Sometimes Sora did it all on her own, and Miyako kept wondering what that would be like, to be able to fly. 

The dream hadn't been quite like that. She'd thought… no, that was ridiculous. She shook her head and threw off the blankets, wincing as her shoulders ached some more. 

_I need to get going._ As much as the dream and what it promised enticed her, Miyako knew right now she couldn't afford to drift off into fantasies. She had a lot of goals and she knew she wouldn't get to any of them if she dreamed about flying, no matter how much she wanted to. 

But being able to fly would've been _so_ useful. It would probably even make her shoulders feel better. 

Maybe she'd ask Hawkmon for a lift to the campus. 

* * *

Koushirou looked over the reports on the health of each of the Chosen, a small frown tilting his lips downward. He looked up at Jou. 

“You're certain about this?” 

“Absolutely. I ran the tests at least three times.” Jou hunched over on the couch, dark circles under his eyes. He spent at least twice as much time as he should trying to get all of his work done and helping Koushirou with his Digital World work as well. Koushirou kept trying to tell him to relax, but Jou refused to so much as consider it. He threw himself into his work without a bit of hesitation. 

Koushirou suspected that he would regret that one day, and all he could hope for was that no one else would regret it either. Of them all, Jou, Yamato, and Ken were the ones who needed to keep a watch on themselves the most. Daisuke might in the future, once they unraveled the complete mysteries surrounding his existence, but at the moment, those three needed to watch themselves. 

Being part Viral Digimon didn't have nearly the perks that some people might've thought it did. Koushirou almost wished it did. There should be some in compensation for the drawbacks. 

But at the moment, they had something aside from the Viral-born breeds to think about. He looked back at the notes. 

“So how do we explain this to her?” It hadn't been this difficult with the others. They'd all met their sires on one occasion or another, and at least in his case, those sires hadn't tried to kill them. But this was different. 

Jou held back a yawn. “I don't know. I really should go. I need to get a report finished and some more research done.” 

Koushirou held out a hand to him. “What you need is to get some sleep.” He'd lost plenty of that himself when hot on the trail and it was frequently Taichi who would tell him that he needed to take a nap. Not that he always did, and he wasn't sure how Taichi managed to sound so worried and caring at the same time. He certainly couldn't pull it off himself. 

“I don't have time,” Jou said, a small, weary smile on his lips. “I'll be fine, though. I don't need that much sleep, remember.” 

Koushirou held back a sigh by sheer force of will. Instead, he gave Jou a firm look. “And have you been taking care of _that_ part of your diet?” 

“Of course I have.” Jou answered too quickly and Koushirou came to his feet without a breath of hesitation. 

“Jou, don't lie to me. You _can't_ let that slip.” The last thing they needed was him going on a rampage of some kind because he'd neglected to feed. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine. You know I don't need that much.” Jou came up to his feet and tucked everything he'd brought with him into his bag. “I'll have something later. You worry too much. I thought that was my job.” There was a faint trace of a smile about his lips and Koushirou didn't know if he wanted to smack it or not. 

But before he could decide either one, Jou bid him farewell and was out the door. Koushirou sagged back into his chair and closed his eyes. He'd heard about herding cats before, but trying to keep tabs on some of the most headstrong people in two worlds made that sound easy. 

* * *

Miyako traced her pen across the paper, trying to keep her focus on the teacher's words and take proper notes. Most of her aches and pains had eased for the moment, but she knew they'd come back. She hated worrying about that more than she hated the strain itself. 

_What did he say?_ She mentally winced when she couldn't remember. That wasn't like her. But the strain kept her distracted even when it wasn't there. She would have to talk to someone else in class to find out what she'd missed. 

Thankfully class was almost done. Being cooped up inside grated on her more and more every day. The details of her dream drifted back to her, the voice murmuring how she would need the skies. 

_I kind of think I already do._

The thought of blue skies and fresh air, puffy white clouds all around her, the wind teasing through her hair, all of that swept so close around her that when class ended, she didn't even bother asking about what she might've missed. 

As soon as she stepped outside and felt the wind blowing through her hair, some of the mild aches that threatened to spawn up again eased. She stepped out of the way of the milling students and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

_I really should go to the Digital World._ She couldn't think of any reason _not_ to do it. Her homework wasn't too intense, so far as she knew; she could finish it after she had a nice long flight with Hawkmon. 

With little more than that, she headed for the family apartment and her nearest way into the Digital World. She checked her D-Terminal as she hurried along, hoping for some kind of a message from any of the others. Well, Jou in particular, in case he'd come up with anything that would help with her aches and pains. 

_Nothing. Well, Hikari wants to have a picnic this weekend, but other than that…_ Miyako shot off a quick reply as she hustled along, wincing when she put a foot wrong and stumbled. She threw her head back a little to compensate, and wished vaguely that she could just fly high above all of this. 

Every single image in her head these days seemed to connect to flying somehow. She would've thought there was something special about it, if she didn't know better about her family. She'd seen baby pictures of herself from birth onward. No mysterious gaps for her. 

Of course, Sora-san could say the same thing… 

She didn't want to think too much about that. The idea of not being who she thought she was, of being something else altogether, sent dark chills through her. 

Her lips pressed together. Maybe she should try to find out. It wouldn't do any harm to at least get herself tested. 

_The tests aren't always sure, though._ Digimon genetics couldn't always be detected unless someone had spent a great deal of time in the Digital World. Ken's power had flared up late in his reign as the Kaiser, which hadn't made stopping him _any_ easier. 

Miyako preferred not to think about those days anyway. At least they had managed to win in the end, and things were so much better now. 

“Hawkmon!” She called for her partner the moment that she entered the apartment. “I need to go to the Digital World, want to come?” 

Hawkmon fluttered out from where he'd been napping in her room. “Of course! Did you want to go somewhere in particular?” 

Miyako worried at her lower lip briefly. “Somewhere where we can fly.” She glanced at him for a second as she set her books down and fumbled for some paper to leave a note. “I've been wondering about something and I think maybe you can help.” It wasn't the same as a test, but sometimes the Digimon could guess it anyway. 

Hawkmon tilted his head to the side to look at her. She shook her head; now wasn't the time or the place. She didn't want to ask her parents, either. If she was right, then she wanted to know why they hadn't told her. If she was wrong, she didn't want to try to explain why a backache made her wonder if she wasn't their daughter. 

Letting them know that she'd be gone for part of the afternoon, she headed right to getting her laptop and the gate going. Hawkmon followed her, clearly worried about her, and she wanted to get there faster, just to explain all of this. Or what she could, anyway. 

She stumbled on the way, grabbing herself on the doorjamb, and breathed harder, trembling. 

“Miyako?” Hawkmon peered up at her. “Are you sure that you're all right? Perhaps we should call someone...” 

“No. No, I'm fine.” Miyako shook her head and called up a smile. She'd never felt this unlike her usual energetic self, even though energy thrummed vibrantly under her skin. “I just need to get outside. In the Digital World.” 

Hawkmon stared more at her, with the kind of look she'd seen Gabumon and Wormmon give their partners before. “Yes,” he said after a long moment which she spent trying to get herself together. “I think that would help you a lot.” 

She bit her lip again, not quite enough to draw blood, but getting there. “You're sure?” This wasn't quite what she'd envisioned when it came to asking Hawkmon what he thought of the situation but if he thought it would help, maybe he was right. 

Which meant maybe _she_ was right. 

“I think so. I didn't really notice before, but you need the Digital World.” 

Neither of them said why. Miyako drew in a stuttering kind of breath, then moved over to her laptop, her D-3 out. “If I need it, then it's time to go.” They could talk in more detail once they were actually there. It wouldn't feel right discussing it anywhere else. 

* * *

Jou flopped himself down on his couch and stared up at the ceiling. There was an itch in the back of his mouth that he couldn't scratch. Itch might not have even been right word, but he _craved_ and he was all out of blood to satisfy the craving. 

_Thanks a lot, Vamdemon._ Jou seldom even thought about his 'father'. He much preferred the man he'd believed was his father for most of childhood to the digital vampire anyway. If 'father' meant someone who took care of you then Kido Akihito had done far more of that than Vamdemon had ever considered. 

Though so far as Jou knew, Vamdemon had never cared about having children in the first place. Nor had Piemon. Their conceptions had been attempts to make tools, powerful warriors, nothing more. 

He threw his arm over his head and tried to think of something else. Like if he had any blood in the fridge and if it would be fresh enough still to be useful. He really did _not_ want to have to dial anyone up and ask if they could be a blood donor. 

He kind of was annoyed at Koushirou for even bringing it up in the first place. He'd been so good at ignoring it until now, but once the redhead mentioned it, Jou couldn't keep the thought out o his head. 

_Maybe I should ask him. No, he'd just say 'I told you so'._ What made it annoying was that he had. 

Jou didn't usually neglect his needs like this. He knew that he was taking a very dangerous risk in doing so, but he needed to study. He had so much looming on the horizon and if he didn't push himself to the very brink, then it would all be for nothing. He was only _part_ Digimon. He didn't need to drink more than a little bit every week or so. 

_I'm glad Gomamon's not here right now._ That was a half-truth at best. He missed his partner, but at the same time, Gomamon would've prodded and poked at him to do something that wasn't studying and probably was finding out which of his friends could stand to lose a little of their blood. 

Another sigh, and he knew that he couldn't push it off any further. If he didn't get something good and liquid in him, then he'd end up doing it the hard way. 

He wasn't going to ask Koushirou. Tasting Yamato or Daisuke's blood wasn't a good idea; especially not Daisuke's. There was something about _his_ blood that could very well tip him over the edge if he had too much of it. So rich, so full, so delicious… 

_Right. Not him._ He squared his mental shoulders. He kind of preferred feeding off of the human Chosen when he had a choice, mostly because they could understand his need but he didn't take a chance on taking too much and causing problems with them or with himself. 

So that left Takeru, Hikari, Taichi, Iori, Mimi, and Miyako. Most of those were busy so far as he knew. 

_Miyako. I'll ask her._ He reached for his D-Terminal to send her a message. Despite both of them being Chosen for several years, the two of them hadn't really talked to one another very often, aside from the occasional medical request on her side of things. He knew she knew who he was, and what he was, but this wasn't something that he'd ever asked her before. 

It only took a moment to send it, then he leaned back and relaxed again, as much as he could. He had to hope that Miyako would agree, or he'd have to start talking to other people that he'd prefer not to bite on. Shuu and Shin had always said if he needed them they would help him. Shuu even said it would make an excellent paper, how vampire reality compared to myth. 

So far as Jou knew or cared, the reality … well, for lack of a better word, it bit. Hard. 

When he got the message that Miyako would gladly agree to his request, he breathed out happily and headed for the nearest laptop. She would open the gate from her side, and then he'd have some dinner, and probably feel up to getting his homework done. Finally. 

At the moment, his hunger curled and roared to the point where he forgot just what it was he'd talked to Koushirou about where Miyako was concerned. 

* * *

Miyako hadn't been flying for all that long when her D-Terminal beeped at her. She and Hawkmon hadn't spoken much about what they wondered about her, not yet anyway. She wanted to get her head clear first, and she'd spent as much time as she could de-stressing so she could get her thoughts together. And then the e-mail came. 

_Should I tell him what I'm thinking about?_ She hovered on the mental edge of a knife here. On the one hand, he needed the help. On the other, if she and Hawkmon were right, what could it do to him? 

Telling him seemed like the best choice. He might even have something to say, once she said it out loud. 

They settled down beside a television portal and it didn't take too long to connect it to the signal from Jou's Digivice. Soon enough, the oldest of the Chosen stood in front of them. He looked about the same as he had a couple of days earlier when Miyako wanted to get some help for her aching back and arms, save for a slight bit of weariness around her eyes. She understood that very well herself. 

“Thank you,” he said, before she'd even begun to do anything. “You don't know how much I need this.” 

Miyako summoned a small smile, more nervous than she really wanted to say. “It's all right. But before we do anything, I think I should tell you… Hawkmon and I have been wondering… and I think you should know, because you're about to drink some of my blood and we don't know what it could do to you…” 

Jou blinked a bit, then shook his head. “We can talk about it later. Trust me, your blood's not going to hurt me. But I think I know what you're thinking about and you might be right.” 

Miyako's mouth opened a little, but she said nothing at all, too nervous to even consider it. Jou, on the other hand, settled near her and slipped a small penknife from his pocket. 

“Do you think you can do this yourself or would you like me to?” he asked. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and started to reach for it. 

“I think I can. But are you really sure?” 

Jou nodded. That was good enough for her; she trusted him to know what he was talking about. She looked at the penknife for a heartbeat, steeled herself, and pressed it into the tip of her index finger until skin parted and several drops of blood sprang out from the small wound. 

The moment the blood was shed, Jou seized her hand and brought it up to his lips. His eyes dilated and he licked his lips before he leaned forward and started to lick up the blood. 

Miyako had read a few books with vampires as main characters over the last couple of years. They'd all enthused about what it was like to be bitten by a vampire. At the moment, Miyako was ready to tell them that they had no idea of what it was like. It just felt _normal_ , as if she'd cut herself – which she had – and Jou was just helping her clean up the blood. Admittedly, this wasn't the most hygienic way to do it, or the way she would've preferred overall, but it just wasn't at all like any book she'd ever read said. 

Jou tilted his head back as he finished the last of the blood, his eyes glimmering brighter than she'd ever seen them before. 

“Delicious,” he murmured, and was there something off about his voice now? She'd never heard him right after feeding. 

Her head spun a little; she might not even be hearing it right. Everything could be fine with him. 

When she could think clearly again, he still was next to her, watching her quietly, a hint of worry in his eyes. She rebuked herself at once for even the faintest hint of uncharitable thoughts. Then she remembered what else he'd said before this. 

“Jou-san,” she asked, sitting herself up a little more, and wishing she had a cup of very strong tea. “You said that I might be right?” She really wished now that she'd taken the time to chat with Hawkmon about this. He stood next to her, not taking his eyes off of Jou for a moment. That kind of worried her too. 

“Now that I've tasted your blood, I _know_ you're right.” Jou smiled and Hawkmon shifted closer to her. She didn't have to ask why. That smile spoke of danger. “You _are_ part Digimon. Very powerful Digimon, at that. I would put you at least at a Perfect level. Maybe more.” He licked his lips again. “I haven't tasted enough Ultimate to know one by taste alone. Unfortunately.” 

She tried to sit up and found she could do it. “Jou-san, I hate to say it like this, but are you all right? You sound kind of strange.” There were times when being as straightforward as she was had its drawbacks. She didn't think now was one of them. Now could very well be a time when that was necessary. 

“Hm?” He turned to look at her. “No, I'm fine. It just takes me a while to calm down after I've had some very good blood, and yours is much better than I expected. I might have to ask you again some time.” 

Miyako looked at Hawkmon and Hawkmon shook his head the tiniest bit. She began to open her mouth, only for Jou to interrupt her, a smile on his lips that sent chills down her spine. 

“In fact, I think I'd like some more. Right now.” 

**To Be Continued**

**Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Series Title:** Hidden Truths|| **Story Title:** Taking Flight  
 **Main Characters:** Miyako, Jou|| **Minor Characters:** Koushirou, Hououmon  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 4,268||story: 8,399|| **Chapters:** 2/5  
 **Genre:** Adventure, Friendship|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** Diversity Writing Challenge, section J10, a multichap with no prologue or epilogue; Christmas Wreath Challenge; New Year's Mini-Advent 2015-2016, start a fic you have yet to post; Advent 2015-2016 Calendar, day #22, write an AU  
 **Notes:** This takes place about six years after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. It doesn't acknowledge the 02 epilogue or Tri. It also takes place in my breed-universe, while it is not connected to anything else I've posted related to said universe.   
**Summary:** Miyako hasn't been feeling well lately. Is it just a common illness or could it have a more digital origin? And if the latter, how does she deal with it? And to make matters more complicated, a favor for a friend ends up unleashing a new enemy, sired by an old one.

* * *

“Miyako!” Hawkmon launched himself at Jou the moment he realized what was going on. Not that it did a great deal; the creature that bore the face of their friend batted him aside with little more than a flick of his hand. 

“You wouldn't try to deprive me of my dinner, would you?” Just as Miyako herself had noticed, a strange edge hung over the words. He didn't sound like Kido Jou anymore. 

Hawkmon hadn't properly met Vamdemon – he didn't count their encounter as BelialVamdemon – but he suspected if he had, then he would find those voices just a little too familiar. That hungry, demanding look in Jou's eyes spoke far too much of the Lord of the Undead as well. 

“You're losing control!” Hawkmon declared, working himself back up to his talons and checking on Miyako in the same movement. She still remained where she'd been, one hand now pressed to her temple, eyes fuzzy and foggy. The cut hadn't been very deep, so something else had to have caused this. 

He had two options in mind and he hoped it was the first one. 

Jou smiled and that could not have been farther from his real smile if he'd tried. One hand snapped out and seized Miyako's wrist, pulling her closer to him. 

“Then you really don't want to make me any _more_ hungry than I already am, do you?” 

Hawkmon froze. As much as he disliked the very thought, Jou had something that could possibly be a point, if he bent to examine it in the right way. The problem with this was that he wanted to feed off Miyako and _that_ was wrong in every sense of the word. She'd given permission for one small feeding and he'd had that already. 

“Why her blood?” He started to jump his way toward Miyako's bag, wanting to get hold of her D-Terminal. “You said it's powerful?” Not only would this distract Jou, but it would probably give them more information, information they could use right now. 

Jou, however, paid him no mind, pulling Miyako closer and yanking her hanks of violet hair away from her neck. “You're a Vaccine,” he mused as he licked his lips, eyes tracing the line of her neck. “I haven't tasted pure Vaccine … ever.” He laughed, a whispering haunting kind of sound. “You're definitely tastier than Oushimon.” 

_Koushirou,_ Hawkmon recalled; they didn't use their Digimon names all that often, but he recognized this one. He dug through Miyako's bag; it should be close to the top, but like so much else when one needed it, it wasn't there. 

Bright fangs flashed in the sunlight and Hawkmon winced at the cry the bite pulled from Miyako. He dumped the bag out on the ground and grabbed for the D-Terminal once he saw it, scrambling to send the quickest of messages to Koushirou. They needed help, and the sooner, the better. 

* * *

Her blood splashed over his lips and down his throat, full and delicious and simply glowing with a taste he'd never imagined before. He'd thought now and then of tasting Daisuke's blood to find out all the hidden secrets within it, and such a thought hadn't entirely left him. But first he wanted to feast on what he'd found here, until he needed nothing more. 

As much as he hated the thought, he knew that he could not drain her to the point of death. Like any good predator, he wanted to make certain that he would have a food source around for when he needed to feed again. So, he would only take what he needed, not all that he wanted. 

But that didn't mean he would just leave her here. No; leaving her where the Chosen could take her would mean he'd never get his fangs buried in her neck again. They would find a way to push him back down, to bury him within Kido Jou's psyche, within the mind of _Jitsumon_ , and he would not have that. 

Jitsumon – Jou – whatever name the other used, he was nothing but a fool, pushing himself to his limits and beyond and for reasons that should mean nothing to him. 

He could feel a small sense of annoyance at that, the part of himself that he'd overpowered to rise up and take what he wanted. He shoved it back down with another gulp of blood and realized he could not stay here even as he did. 

The wind brought him the news: others drew closer. He couldn't yet tell them apart by their scent alone. 

Another crack of his hand, this time powered by a slash of dark blue energy, knocked Hawkmon away from the D-Terminal, which he then crushed underneath one foot. 

_I wonder what that will do to her Digimentals?_ He mentally shrugged. It wouldn't matter. 

He scooped Miyako up; she'd long since stopped struggling, though she made quiet noises of protest anyway, ones that had little force to them. He'd taken enough blood from her so she would be docile for a while longer. 

He needed a place to go. Somewhere safe, where no one would find them, while he sorted matters out. His father's castle would've been best, if it hadn't been destroyed already. Such a pity. 

But the image of another place rose in his mind, from that same place that a Digimon – or a half-Digimon – drew the knowledge of their attacks and their nature from. He knew where it was from here, and smiled a sharp, fanged smile. 

_Excellent._

With Miyako over one shoulder, Fuseiimon leaped into the air and set off to the north, swifter than most eyes could follow. 

* * *

Golden talons scraped against hard stone, eyes narrowed to follow the swift-flying half-breed as he coursed through the sky, a figure not as familiar as Hououmon wished it along for the ride. 

“Son of Vamdemon,” the great bird Digimon murmured, clicking his beak over the words. “You take that which you have no right to.” 

He would not let that pass. The Chosen could help or not as they saw fit. But he would not let Fuseiimon arrive at his lair, wheresoever that might be. 

Great wings spread, and the phoenix Digimon took to the air. 

* * *

Miyako's head spun to the point that the few attempts she made to open her eyes and look down sent nausea lurching through her. It wasn't the height; she'd flown higher than this with Hawkmon in his varied evolutions. But being slung over someone's shoulder with little care for her comfort wasn't at all like riding safely on her partner's back. 

She kept her eyes closed after the second time, trying to get herself put together to the point she could do something. The idea of hitting at Jou – if this was Jou because he certainly hadn't acted like him – until he dropped her came to mind and only knowing that she'd likely enough die if she fell from this height stopped her. 

_You wouldn't,_ came the whispering certain knowledge that twitched at her shoulders and murmured in her bones. _You are safe in the skies, no matter what._

It wasn't a voice speaking; despite how much everything surged around her, she knew that much. It was more of a knowing, a sense that she had no words for. She wanted to believe it, if only because that meant she'd be able to get away. 

But one tiny cracking of an eye, not truly enough to call it being 'open', showed her mountains beneath her, high and craggy and terrifyingly painful just to look at. It _might_ be true, but it might _not_ be, and the consequences if it wasn't weren't ones she wanted to deal with. 

What made her more comfortable than anything, as strange and confusing as it was, was that she could've sworn she heard wings beating. Broad wings cutting the air, an awareness that someone who cared for her wasn't far away, watching, waiting for the right moment. 

It had to be Hawkmon. She didn't know where he was, but she didn't know of anyone else who had wings who'd be around here, except maybe Piyomon. But hadn't Sora-san had to be somewhere else today? She couldn't remember… 

Between a breath and the next, between one beat of wings and the next, her captor whirled around, pulling to a halt in the air, and uttering words that she couldn't fully hear and wasn't certain if she wanted to. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” He wasn't talking to her. She still couldn't get herself together enough to see who it was. Her neck throbbed and any time she tried to think clearly for more than a minute or so, her mind ended up scattered anyway. 

She didn't expect a voice that cut through her mental confusion like a knife of silver and starlight. 

“You take that which you have no right to take, son of Vamdemon. Release my child or face the consequences.” 

Miyako mentally rubbed at her forehead. She could've sworn she knew that voice, had known it all of her life, or _should_ have known it if she didn't. But she couldn't have said who it was that spoke or why hearing it made her feel so very safe. 

“I've a right to feed,” the vampire said, the words hissing out from between teeth Miyako remembered biting into her neck all too clearly. “And she gave me permission.” 

“I think not. For a small feeding, yes, I do not doubt. She counts Jitsumon as her friend. But for this? No. For if you had permission, _you_ would not be here at all, _Fuseiimon_.” 

That didn't make sense to Miyako, but not a great deal did at the moment anyway. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small memory sparked about those who bore viral blood, but she couldn't get any kind of a mental grip on it, and she still couldn't keep two thoughts strung together enough to try. 

“Say what you will. But I'm here now and I will feed as much as I can.” The one holding her tightened his grip a fraction and Miyako could tell that the stories about vampires being overly strong did indeed hold truth. “What can you do to stop me?” 

“You forget who I am and _what_ I am. I give you one more chance and that is all. Jitsumon can bear the sun. Can _you_?” 

Miyako twitched and twisted for a heartbeat or two. Small pieces of everything began to slot together in her mind, not clearly enough for her to do more than try to grasp it, but there all the same. If this Digimon – it couldn't be anything else – threatened her vampire captor with the sun itself then … 

“Hououmon...” The word fell from her lips, with knowledge glinting alongside of it. 

Hououmon, the great phoenix, bird of the sun and of fire, the final evolution for many bird-type Digimon, though that was more of a speculation than anything else. Only one existed and no one properly knew if another one could or would. 

And that one hung in the skies here, seeking to save her from a monster. 

* * *

Fuseiimon kept his grip on Miyako. He knew better than to fight Hououmon; not only was the creature an _Ultimate_ to his own Perfect status, but it wielded the light of the sun itself against him. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he _couldn't_ stand the sun. That Jitsumon _could_ made him want to shriek and shred something, preferably Jitsumon himself. 

That wasn't possible at all, given that they were two sides of the same coin. But it made him want to do it all the same. 

_I won't give her up. This power is too much._ It reminded him of the blood of Piemon's offspring, but different. 

He spun in place, striking with a stream of scarlet energy that anyone who had ever fought his father would recognize as similar to Vamdemon's Bloody Stream. He didn't expect it to do anything at all against Hououmon and it didn't. What it did was send the other pulling back just for a few seconds, and he used those precious moments to good advantage, zooming his way out of sight, Miyako still held close to him. 

* * *

Hououmon watched as they vanished into the distance, the first hints of evening shadows wrapping around them. His talons flexed on the air and if his child hadn't been in the vampire's arms and so clearly incapable of taking flight and freeing herself, he would've struck. 

Not full force, not enough to kill; but enough so that she would be free. 

_He will not keep her._ He'd already made up his mind on that. But the great Ultimate knew something else as well: this wasn't a fight he could win alone, even with all of his power. 

He needed help and there were but a handful of beings who could provide that help. 

Praise be, he knew exactly who to go to for that help. They would be startled to see him, but so be it. They wanted her back as much much as he did, if for different reasons. 

They wanted their friend. He wanted his hatchling daughter. With all due luck, they could all have what they wanted. 

* * *

Hawkmon managed to get back upright just as Koushirou, Yamato, and Ken swept into the clearing, their partners with them. Yamato raked the area with his sharp sapphire gaze before he turned to Hawkmon. 

“Where?” 

No other questions needed asking, not with the evidence of Miyako and Jou not being there at all. Hawkmon shook his head and ruffled his feathers. 

“I don't know where he took her, only that he bit her on the neck and then left. He wasn't like himself. He wasn't like Kido Jou-san at all.” 

“Fuseiimon.” Ken let out the name in a long sigh and shook his head. 

“I knew he was pushing himself too much,” Koushirou said with a sharp shake of his own. “I warned him. And if he fed off Miyako, then that must have triggered it.” 

“Why her?” Ken wanted to know, eyes flicking around the clearing in an attempt to uncover any more information. 

“She's a breed. We'd just managed to work that much out, but not anything else. We wanted to talk to her about it and see if there's been any hints she's noticed that we haven't. The last time Jou talked to her that I know about, she'd just had a few aches and pains, but that wouldn't necessarily be connected to it.” 

Even after all these years, there was so much that the Chosen didn't know about what could happen when human and Digimon blood crossed. Just the fact it _could_ at all required a great deal of study that Jou and Koushirou had been working on together. 

Yamato paced the area. Hawkmon had only contacted Koushirou; Koushirou called him and Ken. Together the three of them were the strongest, and the ones least likely to be bitten if it came to a fight against the flip side of Jou's vampire nature. 

No one wanted to know what would happen if Fuseiimon got his fangs into Daisuke, so he would stay out of this. They hoped. 

_I'll contact Sora,_ he decided. _We might need her help too._ She didn't have the same kind of raw power as they did, but she could do plenty of things that they couldn't: like get Miyako out of wherever Fuseiimon put her while the rest of them kept him busy. 

He opened his mouth to let the others know his idea when huge wings beat overhead and a brilliant shape landed in the trees above them. 

“Greetings, Chosen Children, bearer of the blood of Digimon,” came a voice of starlight and silver. “We have a common interest and enemy this night.” 

Koushirou's head snapped up. Moving as quickly as a cat – which surprised no one – he leaped up to the nearest branch of the closest tree and scrambled up as high as he could go. Ken, Yamato, and Hawkmon took to the air themselves, joining him in the high branches. 

“You're Hououmon!” Koushirou breathed out the name as he stared into the face of the phoenix Digimon. “I've heard about you.” 

“As I have heard of you, Oushimon,” Hououmon replied, bending his head down to look at them all. “I presume that you know of what has happened.” 

“A little,” Ken said, caution coloring his tone. “What can you tell us?” 

Hououmon's beak parted briefly into what they recognized as a smile. “That Fuseiimon flies the skies of the Digital World tonight, with my daughter held captive.” 

Stark silence fell between them all, broken at last by Hawkmon a handful of heartbeats later. 

“You're her father?” 

“That I am.” Hououmon nodded. “In short, when I became aware of the greater Virus Digimon who sought to breed warriors for children, I determined there should be one who could match them. With the help of Gennai, I contacted a human family that we felt would understand the situation and thus were matters arranged. My hatchling is the one that you know as Inoue Miyako.” He raised his head in pride. “She will fledge soon and I have been calling to her. I do not know if she's understood my calling, but she will know regardless soon enough.” 

Hawkmon ruffled his feathers a bit worriedly. “I don't think she did understand very well. But we can explain it to her when we get her back.” 

“Do you know where they are?” Yamato wanted to know. He had a thousand more questions but all of them could wait for the moment. 

“I know where they were. I know where he might seek to go. But the darkness holds them both safe for now. As much as I dislike it, we may have to wait until sunrise.” 

Koushirou flexed his fingers, reaching for the laptop he carried slung on his back. “Maybe, and maybe not. Where did you see them last? And where do you think they're going?” 

* * *

Fuseiimon hovered for a few seconds outside of the castle. Built into the side of the mountain, with no entrance visible, it looked more like the kind of place one generally could find in the Digital World instead of a place intended for his personal use. 

He didn't know which it was, but it was his and he would use it and that alone mattered to him. 

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder before he headed for the entrance. Hououmon could not hide in the darkness, but he wouldn't put it past his enemy to call up some allies who could. The Chosen would be on their way as well, even if it took them time to track him down. 

Anyone who tried to get in here through one of the doors or windows would be doomed to failure. Those didn't open save by command of the master of the castle, and when they did, it wasn't always to a nice safe room or entryway. 

But he knew that his enemies would find out about that sooner or later anyway. For now, he slid into the shadows and stepped out inside the castle itself. 

Miyako stirred, eyelids fluttering, fingers twitching. Fuseiimon tightened his grip and found himself rewarded by a soft, confused moan. 

“Quiet,” he growled, turning his head this way and that to get a feel of the area. He'd never been here before, but it was a part of him all the same. He only needed a few moments to orient himself before he picked one of the stairways and headed up it, still carrying her over one shoulder. 

“Where… are we?” She wriggled a little more and he considered taking another bite out of her to keep her quiet. Only the fact they were already so close to his goal kept him from doing so. 

Besides, it wasn't good to eat in between meals. 

“We are in my home. That's all that you need to know,” Fuseiimon told her, kicking open the door. “This is where you're going to stay until I need something to eat again. You can think about trying to escape all that you want, but you won't. I'll see you later.” 

He dropped her down onto the bed and headed right back out, closing the door behind him. It locked with little more than a thought, sealing her in until he chose otherwise. 

Fuseiimon didn't like his meals trying to get away from him. Especially not ones that could provide him with the kind of power he'd tasted in her blood. 

_And she's only half-awake at that. It will only get stronger once she does._

His steps now turned toward the master bedroom, one that held no windows to let in the painful light of the sun. Hers did have a window, but set to the north side, which here meant that she would have only a minimum of sunlight. The less, the better, so far as the new-minted vampire lord cared. 

_She'll need food. I can't feed from her if she's not well-fed._ He could, but it wouldn't last long and it wouldn't be as nourishing for him in the long run. But first he needed his own rest. There would be plenty to do once he woke up, starting with retrieving Gomamon. 

What was Jitsumon's was his. Whether anyone else liked it or not. He preferred it when they didn't like it. It made taking it that much more amusing. 

* * *

Miyako's head spun and stomach danced to the point if she'd had anything in her stomach she believed she would've lost it. As it was, not wanting to move at all after that unwieldy trip kept her nausea more or less under control until she could open her eyes and try to see what was going on. 

At the moment, not very much was. She found herself in a dark room. Her fingers clenched on something underneath her, identifying it as a bed a heartbeat later. A bedspread, in full accuracy, one soft and satiny under her fingertips. She'd never encountered a bed this soft, either, with pillows to match. 

She pulled in a breath, still trying to get herself put together enough to think. Trying it when she wasn't being carried half a mile in the air was a lot easier. 

If there were any lights around here, she couldn't see them. She couldn't see much of anything. She pushed herself upward and tried to get a better look. 

_Never seen this place before._ She really couldn't see anything, and she didn't like that. She wasn't afraid of the dark by any means, but being afraid of not knowing where she was or why she was here at all? That wasn't on her top ten list of enjoyable situations. 

She went back over what she did know. Jou-san had pretty much lost it when he'd tasted her blood. He'd said some things she didn't fully remember, not yet anyway. Something about how good her blood tasted? That sounded about right anyway. 

Then he'd bitten her on the neck instead of the tiny cut she'd made on her finger and after that, she really couldn't remember anything properly. He'd brought her here, wherever here was, and said something about being back later. 

“I hate not knowing what's going on!” Miyako snarled, slamming one fist on the bed beneath her. She expected that the other Chosen would come sooner or later; they always came whenever any of their friends were in danger. She'd helped more than once with that and she didn't think it would be any different now that she was the one in danger. 

She hated being the one in danger, too. Especially when she was so close to finding out what the problem she'd been wrestling with for the last day or so _was_. 

That voice… she could remember it now, the voice of the one who'd interrupted their flight. It sang in her veins, even if she couldn't remember what it said. The fact of the voice existing didn't escape her, though. Not in the slightest. 

Miyako carefully stood up, her legs wavering underneath her. She gripped harder at the bed, one hand tracing downward until she found the bedpost. Getting a better grip on it, she forced herself to shuffle along, her free hand now extended, hoping that she wouldn't encounter something slimy, gross, or otherwise something she didn't want to have on the ends of her fingers. 

She knew the others would come for her. But she wasn't going to rule out the chance of saving herself in the process. 

Miyako didn't know how long she wandered around the room but what she could figure out was that the room didn't have much in the way of furniture. The bed, a chair, and a table, nothing more that she could feel. At least two doors led to other rooms, not counting the one she thought she'd come through. Neither of them would open up, however. Nor would the window that she found after another few minutes of fumbling. 

“Now what?” Miyako grumbled, resting one hand on the windowsill. She wanted to get out, but when nothing opened up, what was she to do? 

Her head came up a heartbeat later, when a voice of silver and starlight whispered words she hadn't expected to hear here, at least not in _that_ voice. 

_My daughter. Kipponmon. Inoue Miyako._

**To Be Continued**

**Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Series Title:** Hidden Truths|| **Story Title:** Taking Flight  
 **Main Characters:** Miyako, Jou|| **Minor Characters:** Koushirou, Hououmon  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 4,020||story: 12,419|| **Chapters:** 3/5  
 **Genre:** Adventure, Friendship|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** Diversity Writing Challenge, section J10, a multichap with no prologue or epilogue; Christmas Wreath Challenge; New Year's Mini-Advent 2015-2016, start a fic you have yet to post; Advent 2015-2016 Calendar, day #22, write an AU  
 **Notes:** This takes place about six years after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. It doesn't acknowledge the 02 epilogue or Tri. It also takes place in my breed-universe, while it is not connected to anything else I've posted related to said universe.   
**Summary:** Miyako hasn't been feeling well lately. Is it just a common illness or could it have a more digital origin? And if the latter, how does she deal with it? And to make matters more complicated, a favor for a friend ends up unleashing a new enemy, sired by an old one.

* * *

_Kipponmon._

The name rang bells inside of Miyako’s mind, which really wasn’t something that she wanted at the moment. But these weren’t _bad_ bells in the slightest. The name rung against her heart and her soul, as if it were a part of her that she’d never known until she’d heard the word for the first time, and now that she had, it slotted itself neatly into all the places that hadn’t had a name to call themselves by. 

“Who… who are you?” She didn’t know if she’d even actually heard the word. _Am I hearing things? Making things up because of what’s happened?_ It sounded as legitimate as anything else that had happened to her since the day she and Iori met Takeru. 

But again the voice came, so strong and so different and so familiar as it sang along her blood. 

_I am Hououmon. And I will be there soon to help you._

That told her what she wanted to know, and yet told her nothing at all at the same time. She hissed, shaking her throbbing head. No one had ever told her that being a vampire’s donor would have _this_ affect. 

_It doesn’t._

Her head jerked up and she hissed again as a bolt of bright pain lanced through her at the movement. “What?” 

_Fuseiimon is a virus. You are a vaccine. A very powerful one, at that. Not to mention you are _also_ of Holy Beast origin. Not quite so much as Angemon or Angewomon; your human blood dilutes it to an extent. But it is enough so that his bite weakens you more than it should._

Fumbling with one hand behind her, Miyako dropped down onto the bed, trying to put all of this together and not doing a very good job of it. “Shouldn’t that affect him and not me?” 

_It is. He’s not as strong as he would be if you were of Piemon’s line, for example. He thinks he is, but Vamdemon’s breed has never been the wisest._ She was almost certain that Hououmon laughed at this. _It is his human side that gives Jitsumon his wisdom and his compassion. But now that his sire’s blood runs strong in him, sparked admittedly by your blood, he isn’t going to think as well as he could._

Miyako wished she had some aspirin. Maybe then all of this would make sense. She grabbed onto the smallest thing she could. 

_I’m a vaccine. So I really am a breed._ After everything that happened, the pain in her shoulders and the worries she had didn’t seem that important right now. But it gave her something she could focus on. 

Something else that Hououmon said earlier clicked into place in her mind. “You said… you called me… your daughter?” 

_Yes._ She thought there was an edge of pleasure in his tone. It wasn’t easy to tell, halfway because of the way everything pounded between her ears and halfway because she wasn’t at all used to talking to someone with her mind. _I’ve wanted to speak to you for some time. Your time of fledging is nearly here._

That didn’t quite make sense to Miyako, but she guessed it was something important. 

_It is. You are going to fly, my daughter. I’ve tried to contact you before, but your human family wished to wait a little longer._ Something that sort of sounded like exasperation twitched through his voice. _I contacted them just a handful of days ago but they still refused. They wished you to remain ‘normal’ as long as possible._

Miyako breathed in. She wished she had something to eat. Her stomach craved as much meat as she could manage. That didn’t surprise her; she’d heard from others who’d been Jou-san’s donors that they tended to want food that would build their blood back up. 

Thinking about her stomach made it a little easier to work through what Hououmon told her. She could remember hearing her parents talking about something now that she put her mind to it. It hadn’t _sounded_ like anything she needed to worry about. If anything, it sounded more like one of her mother’s novels about people who gained amazing powers on significant birthdays. 

_I never have asked why she writes those..._

Now, perhaps, she had a little bit of an idea. 

Now, she kind of wished she’d paid more attention to what they’d said and asked about it, if only from a bit of curiosity. It would’ve told her what she needed to know, maybe. At least some of it. 

Granted, if they’d just told her all along that she had Digimon blood flowing in her veins, that would’ve helped too. Maybe she wouldn’t have agreed to let Jou-san take some of her blood and she wouldn’t be in this mess. 

_Perhaps, perhaps not._

She wasn’t sure if she could get used to Hououmon talking to her in her mind. How could he even do that? 

_It helps that we do share blood, my daughter. It isn’t something I could do with just anyone._ Hesitance hung in the air between them. _Once you are fully awake and recovered, we may not be able to do it then. But now your mental defenses are down because of Fuseiimon’s feeding. It is a … fortunate side effect, for now._

Miyako nodded a bit absently, rubbing her forehead, then the back of her neck, wincing at the pain from where Fuseiimon bit her. She wanted to eat still, but more than that, she wanted out of here. 

“You said you were coming. How long?” And could they somehow bring food with them? 

_Not very. We need to make certain we can contain Fuseiimon as well, and provide both of you with proper meals._

She nodded once more, stretching herself back down on the bed. As much as she wanted to genuinely talk to Hououmon, to learn about him and everything else that went along with finding out that one was part Digimon – and at least she got a _good_ Digimon father, one who wasn’t going to try to kill them all – she wanted to rest first. If she couldn’t eat, she could at least sleep. 

_I’ll let you know when we’re ready. Fuseiimon may feed you before we can get there. We have many preparations to make. I think you can trust him on that much._

Miyako didn’t even bother to nod, just closed her eyes and let herself slip away into the comforting arms of sleep. 

* * *

Hououmon got himself as settled as possible. He still had to get used to the taste of his offspring’s mind, but there were other tasks that needed dealing with at the moment. 

“How is she?” Hikari asked, staring up at him. When the Chosen sent for Sora, one thing had led to another, and now all ten of them waited, with their partners, ready to go help both of their friends. 

“Resting, now. She needs all of it she can get.” Hououmon looked over the group. Oushimon – Koushirou – bent over his laptop, fingers flying as he worked out the best way for all of them to get to Fuseiimon’s lair without the young vampire lord knowing they were coming. 

Or at least without knowing _when_ they were coming. He’d be a fool to think they wouldn’t at least make a rescue attempt. However disconcerted he might be from the taste of Kipponmon’s vaccine blood, he wasn’t actually stupid. 

Which meant he’d likely recruit guards of various kinds. Even after the Chosen’s work of years, there were still some Digimon who chose darker paths and would seek to follow leaders who could give them strength from those darker paths. Fuseiimon would definitely count as one of those. 

At least for so long as they let him exist. None of them wanted that to be more than a handful of minutes, if that long. 

Gomamon flexed his long claws into the ground beneath them. “I knew I should’ve stuck around! This wouldn’t have happened if I’d knocked some sense into Jou!” 

“You can still knock some sense into him,” Taichi said, grinning a bit. “He’ll just complain about it a lot. Before and after.” 

“He always does.” Gomamon shrugged, cocking an eye toward the sky. It wasn’t all that late, by human standards, but darkness flung star-studded fingers across the sky. Fuseiimon likely wouldn’t be out again until the next night. He would need the time to gather his strength, and _they_ would need the time to track down his location and be ready when the time came. It could not come too soon, in Hououmon’s opinion. 

A night and a day. That was all they had. While he suspected the location of Fuseiimon’s lair, finding it and approaching without him fleeing again – or even assuming that he’d stayed there and hadn’t or wouldn’t move on – was another point altogether. So far as he could tell, they hadn’t, at least not yet. Kipponmon hadn’t said anything to that effect, but she’d hardly been in a position to know where they were, much less where they might be. 

Oushimon cleared his throat and tapped the side of his laptop. “This is what I’ve figured out. Since all of us can’t fly, and there isn’t enough space on everyone who can for everyone who can’t, we’re going to have to take the overland route. That will take up more time, but there’s also a better chance to get there without Fuseiimon knowing we’re there.” 

“How long will this take?” Iori wanted to know. He carried a long stick with him, not a stake, but given a vampire’s weakness to wood, Hououmon found himself anticipating what could happen if Iori struck Fuseiimon with it. 

Oushimon tapped one part of the screen. “If my estimations are correct, then we should get to Fuseiimon’s castle sometime before sunset tomorrow.” 

“Perfect.” Taichi rolled his eyes at that. “We’ll get there right when he’s woken up and feeling bright and perky.” 

“I’ll go with ‘perky’ but I don’t think he’s ever been bright at all,” Daisuke threw in, a slash of a smile across his lips. Ken shook his head at that as he examined the edge of his blades. 

“I think the sooner that we do this, the better. Is everyone ready?” 

Various gestures of agreement were made, then those who needed to evolve to carry their partners did so. It was a fantastic display of light and power, ending with Taichi on Greymon, Chiguumon on Garurumon, Oushimon seated on Kabuterimon’s back, Aikoumon with Birdramon, Hikari and Takeru with Nefertimon and Pegasumon – claiming their Armored forms were of more use for the double duty of carrying them and fighting with the time came –, Mimi tucked into Lilymon’s arms, Iori gripping onto Armadimon’s back, while Ken and Daisuke rode on Paildramon’s shoulders. 

“This will keep everyone in a close enough formation so that we won’t lose track of each other,” Oushimon declared. “If anyone wants to scout ahead, then let us know.” 

Hououmon spread his glittering wings before leaping into the skies. “Scouting will be my duty. There is nothing of evil that can escape my sight.” 

“Good to know,” Chiguumon said, taking a glance at his own blades before flicking them into the ether where they slept when not in use. “Come on, let’s get this going. The sooner we get him taken care of, the better.” 

* * *

Fuseiimon could tell the sun wasn’t down as of yet the moment his eyes opened. But his fortress remained wrapped in the shadows and that was good enough for the moment. He had too much to do to wait for complete nightfall, even if he wanted to. 

With each passing moment he formed a tighter grip on reality. The longer he remained in control, the more difficult it would be to force him out of control. That was why he needed to wait until such moments of weakness before he could force the flip side of his personality out of the mental driver’s seat. 

The fact Jitsumon pushed himself to such limits _and_ starved himself of blood made it that much simpler this time. If he’d done one or the other, it might not have been so easy. Not impossible, but not easy. But he’d done both, and now Fuseiimon roamed free. 

A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he prowled through his dark fortress. _What would it take to recall Akuenmon or Anbumon? Or even **Akogimon.**_ What would they all think to face both sons of Piemon _and_ Fuseiimon himself? 

Not to mention all the dark glory that seethed behind _Daisuke’s_ skin. 

They would come. He knew that. He could not avoid the knowledge, even if he wanted to. So he would take the ones he wanted, put the others in storage for later feedings, and a new dynasty to rule would rise in the Digital World. 

He may or may not head it; Anbumon and Akogimon would likely argue over that point. But he would be instrumental in it and they would know that he’d been the one to bring them into play. They would _owe him_. 

He ran his tongue over his lips. He could still taste the tiniest traces of her blood there. He would need to feast again but first her own food. He’d thought of gaining Gomamon before that, but with sleep behind him, he knew better. 

Of course it wouldn’t be a bad idea if he could get her dinner and his partner while he was out at the same time. It would save time and make everything that much better. But he wasn’t going to plan on it. 

_I’ll need guards, just in case they find the place while I’m out._ Locked doors would be useful, but quite a few of his former companions could blow a locked door away with little more than a flick of a wrist. 

They could also blow away most of the guards that he could think of, but guards would slow them down with less chances of his precious food supply getting damaged in the process. Every moment could make a difference. 

First, however, he set up traps. If they _did_ somehow make it to his lair and through whatever guards he could find on short notice, it would be better if he had something in place to take care of them. 

Putting those into place passed most of the time until the sun faded behind the mountains. The traps themselves weren’t as difficult to get rid of as he would’ve hoped, but he had little time to work with. Moments counted, he reminded himself, moments counted. 

He checked on his new blood-pet before leaving the castle, finding her in a deep sleep that would likely go a long way toward reviving her blood for him. The food would make it even better. 

Satisfied that all was as it should be, he slipped through the cracks in the wall and took himself off first to the nearest village of Virus type Digimon. It was always best to hire local. 

* * *

Local, in this case, turned out to be a village of Goblimon. Most of them weren’t all that thrilled about this young humanoid Digimon who dropped down out of the sky, looked them all over with an arrogance that might’ve put Piemon to shame, and declared two words. 

“You’ll do.” 

The Goblimon leader slumped forward, club lifted, glaring at the newcomer. “What do you want?” 

“I want you to take what belongings you have and move your village to the castle in the mountains.” He gestured off to his left. “You work for me now. Guard the castle, make certain no one gets inside, much less removes anything or _anyone_ from the inside. That’s all that I ask of you.” 

None of them looked especially thrilled at his orders. He just looked back at them all, one eyebrow rising up. 

“Is there a particular reason you’re not packing yet?” 

“Who are you?” The leader demanded, club rising higher. “Why should we do what you say?” 

He shook his head with a bit of a sigh. “To answer your second question first, if you _don’t_ , then the only other use I could find for you would be as blood providers.” He bared his teeth, sharp white fangs glittering in the pale light of the stars. “As for who I am: Fuseiimon, son of Vamdemon.” 

Within minutes, the village began packing, scouts ranging outward to the castle. They were close enough that Fuseiimon judged they would get there before the night aged that much, which also meant they’d be in place before any of the Chosen could get there. 

That sparked another thought and he snapped his fingers for the leader’s attention. 

“Where can I get some food fit for a human?” 

* * *

On most days, the Inoue apartment didn’t even know what the word ‘quiet’ meant. With two parents, four offspring, and anywhere from one to six Digimon there at any point, quiet just wasn’t something they had. 

Today was the exception. Today, everyone sat in the living room, the television off, waiting for any word from those who roamed the Digital World in search of Miyako. 

“We should go there,” Chizuru declared without warning, on her feet and pacing from one side of the room to the other. “We have partners. We’ve been there before. We know what it’s like.” 

“But we don’t have their experience,” Momoe pointed out, one hand moving over and over her Bakumon’s head. “And we don’t even know where to begin looking.” 

Chizuru grumbled at that; she hated it when Momoe made sense. Gotsumon, her own partner, tugged at her sleeve. 

“Fuseiimon is a powerful Digimon, too. Most of us can’t evolve yet,” he reminded her, gesturing to the other Digimon in the room. Like most families of the Chosen, the Inoues partnered to Digimon with relative ease over the last few years. It had required some adjusting, but now the idea of being without Gotsumon’s rock-solid presence wasn’t one Chizuru wanted to consider. 

“I guess.” Chizuru flopped down in her space on the couch again and let out very annoyed sigh. 

“She’ll be all right,” Inoue Manami promised, fingers clenching and unclenching as she spoke. “There’s much more to Miyako than you can imagine.” 

Mantarou threw a glance over at his parents, then to his sisters. “You mean like the fact she’s part Digimon?” 

Manami and her husband both froze at that, exchanging the quickest of glances before they looked back toward their son. Mantarou just shook his head. 

“I remember when that guy came here when I was just a kid. I didn’t know what he was talking about then. But I heard things like ‘Digimon’. But I didn’t really think about it after that. I was getting a little brother.” He snorted. “I thought I was, anyway. Then we got another girl.” 

Momoe and Chizuru both gave him dirty looks, with Bakumon and Gotsumon echoing them. Mantarou’s Penmon returned the look harshly, but he kept on talking anyway. 

“Then we started finding out that her friends – some of them anyway – are part Digimon, too. And I started thinking about it again. So that’s it, isn’t it?” 

Manami closed her eyes and nodded a tiny bit. “We made an agreement, for the sake of the world. But she is still your sister.” 

“Never said she wasn’t.” Mantarou shrugged. “So, think we should throw her some kind of party when she gets back? Congratulations, should we call it your hatching day now? Digimon come from eggs, right?” 

Penmon, Gotsumon, and Bakumon, as well as their parents’ partners, all snickered at that. 

“You know very well she didn’t come out of an egg.” Manami waved a finger at her son. Then the side of her mouth quirked. “But since her sire is a bird Digimon, then...maybe?” 

Momoe covered her face with one hand and shook her head. “I’m not sure if _I’m_ related to all of you sometimes.” 

* * *

Miyako stirred. If she’d thought about this beforehand, she might well have thought she’d wake up fuzzy-headed and confused. Instead, the moment she opened her eyes and saw a single candle burning, cast a slender shadow on a wall that wasn’t her own, every memory of the last few hours slammed back into her head and she rolled over, groaning. 

“I don’t suppose you found any aspirin?” Miyako muttered, not surprised to hear Fuseiimon’s faint snicker at her reaction. Jou-san wouldn’t have done that, therefore, this was Fuseiimon. Logic was her best friend, except for Iori. 

“I didn’t know you needed any.” So far as Miyako knew, he told the truth. She didn’t care. She just wanted her head to stop hurting. 

Thankfully, the food he set down in front of her went a long way towards doing that, which told her most of her current status was, of course, his fault for having bitten her in the first place. She gave him a very thoughtful look as she plowed her way through what she guessed would be breakfast. It wasn’t anything she could recall eating before, but it was hot, it tasted pretty good, and it was probably all she was going to get until he decided he needed to feed her again. 

At least finding out she was part bird Digimon didn’t mean she suddenly wanted to eat seeds or something. There were plenty of birds who ate meat, she knew, and not all Digimon ate like whatever it was they looked like from Earth, if they looked like anything at all from there. 

Fuseiimon said nothing else as she plowed through the meal in front of her. Only when she’d finished did he talk. 

“I’ve hired a village of Goblimon to stand guard around the castle. Don’t try to get by them. They won’t allow it.” 

Miyako wondered if the fact she was just as much of a breed as he was had somehow slipped his mind. She couldn’t be certain of how awake she was, since knowing one had a certain type of blood didn’t mean it was strong enough for the power to _work_. Though the more time she spent in the Digital World would help. 

Besides, _Goblimon_? Miyako decided she’d try to make her way by them even if she had to whack them upside the head with a chair. 

“Did you hear me?” Fuseiimon growled and she glanced up at him, eyes sparking a bit with annoyance. 

“I heard you. Don’t try to get by your hired thugs. Even though for all I know I can sprout wings and fly out the window any moment now.” 

Fuseiimon moved quicker than her eyes could follow, hand gripping onto her shoulder and bending her head to the side. 

“We might find that out later. But now that you’ve had your breakfast, I want mine.” His head flashed forward and a startled noise fell from her lips as his fangs sank into her neck. 

He didn’t take all that much, not even compared to what he’d had before, but when he stepped back, she sank back onto the bed, head spinning again. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at the blanket, only vaguely aware of what Fuseiimon said. 

“You taste so good. I can’t wait for you to wake up all the way.” 

Then he was gone, and with him went the small flickering light of the candle. She didn’t hear a door closing, but she knew her ways out of there were as limited as they’d been when she’d woken up the first time. Fuseiimon didn’t want her escaping. She really wasn’t one to give him what he wanted, not if she could get herself on her feet and find a way to leave the room. And she would. She refused to let herself believe otherwise. 

Miyako let her thoughts drift where they would, and managed a small smile even in the darkness. 

_You know, I don’t think you want that as much as you think you do._

But she did. Oh, she did so very much. 

**To Be Continued**

**Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.


	4. Chapter 4

**Series Title:** Hidden Truths|| **Story Title:** Taking Flight  
 **Main Characters:** Miyako, Jou|| **Minor Characters:** Daisuke, Hououmon|| **Pairing:** Ken x Daisuke/Daisuke x Ken  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 4,248||story: 16,667|| **Chapters:** 4/5  
 **Genre:** Adventure, Friendship|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** Diversity Writing Challenge, section J10, a multichap with no prologue or epilogue; Christmas Wreath Challenge; New Year's Mini-Advent 2015-2016, start a fic you have yet to post; Advent 2015-2016 Calendar, day #22, write an AU  
 **Notes:** This takes place about six years after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. It doesn't acknowledge the 02 epilogue or Tri. It also takes place in my breed-universe, while it is not connected to anything else I've posted related to said universe.   
**Summary:** Miyako hasn't been feeling well lately. Is it just a common illness or could it have a more digital origin? And if the latter, how does she deal with it? And to make matters more complicated, a favor for a friend ends up unleashing a new enemy, sired by an old one.

* * *

“This is a very bad idea. I want both of you to know that before I take another step.” 

“You’re twenty-six years old. I thought you would’ve stopped blaming things on us ten or fifteen years ago.” 

“When it comes to coming to a world that hardly anyone, even the people who live here, knows enough about, then I can regress if I want to.” 

“Do we even know where we’re going? I can’t pick up a thing on this Digivice. Aren’t they supposed to beep when we’re near someone else’s?” 

“That’s what Miyako always told us. Mine’s not doing anything either.” 

“That doesn’t sound like such a good thing to me.” 

“I hate to admit it, but he’s probably right. No, don’t you even dare open your mouth, big brother.” 

“Calm down, both of you. I did my best to program the gate so that we’d come out near to Miyako. Wherever she is. So all we have to do is find her.” 

“Chizuru, do you have any idea of how much territory that could cover? I mean, just because we might’ve been near her when we arrived _an hour ago_ doesn’t mean that we picked the right direction to start walking in.” 

“Actually, you’re not that far from her. Of course, I’m not going to let you _see her_ , at least not right now.” 

“I _told_ you that this was a very bad idea.” 

* * *

Fuseiimon smiled as the newest additions to his army dragged the three humans and their partner Digimon away to the castle. They’d make excellent additions to his larder for later times. They wouldn’t be as delicious as Miyako or Daisuke, but he’d not completely shaken the thought of turning one or more of the humans. If he did go through with that, they would need to feed, and it would likely be easier to have something on hand than needing to run down some prey. 

_Later,_ he promised himself. Now that he’d disposed of these unwanted visitors, it was time to turn his attention to the next phase of his grand plan: defeating the Chosen themselves. 

He already knew where the attack would happen. They’d never see a thing coming. And if he wanted to see it for himself, he had to hurry. 

The most satisfied of smiles still hovering over his lips, he launched himself into the cool evening air and made his way to the site of his future triumph. 

* * *

“That sun’s down a lot farther than I wish it was,” Daisuke said, tossing it a look and wishing that his abilities included raising it back up again. The more sunlight they had, the better off their entire job would be. 

“Can’t be helped,” Ken murmured, moving farther along. He opened his mouth as if to say something else when he and everyone else froze in their tracks. Daisuke didn’t ask why: in the sudden collapse of sound and the silence left in its wake, he heard a familiar voice grumbling. 

“When I find that stupid vampire, I’m going to shred him into more pieces than he can count! That anyone could count, ever! And then I’m going to stomp on him and throw him into a river and _then_ I might start getting mad at him!” 

All the Chosen and their partners sent confused and slightly worried glances skimming about their number. The voice couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s at all, nor could the attitude. 

“Miyako?” Iori raised his voice, making a question out of the name, and hope threaded through his tone in a fashion Takeru quite approved of. 

Out of the bushes right in front of them burst their friend, yanking thorny twigs out of her messy hair and still declaring every bit of revenge she had in mind for Fuseiimon at the top of her lungs. 

She stopped after another few steps and stared at the group, eyes flicking from one of them to another, eyes rounding before she threw herself at Iori, hugging him, babbling words that no one could completely understand, but no one cared. 

“How did you get out?” Sora wanted to know, throwing her arms around Miyako. 

“How far behind you is Fuseiimon?” was Taichi’s question. “Could he have let you out to find us?” 

Miyako kept hugging each of them in turn, shaking her head the whole time. “There were Goblimon, I hit them, then I found a door that wasn’t locked.” 

Hououmon leaned down closer, a curios light in his eyes. Miyako stared back at up at him, her arms first held out for a hug now dropping down to her sides. “I...hi?” 

She started to turn towards Ken and Daisuke, fidgeting suddenly. “I don’t know if he’s following me. I haven’t seen him.’ 

Ken’s muscles tightened. As close as they were, Daisuke could feel it. 

He also felt it a heartbeat later when Ken moved forward, smooth as silk, and violet-blue energy flowed from the sword that appeared in his hand, knocking into Miyako and throwing her backwards to a confused chorus from all of the others. 

Ken moved forward as well, his eyes not moving from Miyako as she lay slumped across a bush. Then he lifted his head and spoke. 

“Did you think that _I_ wouldn’t recognize tricks I used when I was _eleven_ , Fuseiimon?” Contempt flavored his words, thick enough to spread on toast. “If this is the best that you’ve got, then we didn’t all need to come.” 

Dead silence reigned for a heartbeat or two. Then Miyako began to laugh, and it wasn’t in her own voice at all. She stood back up, still shaky, but in between one heartbeat and the next, she wasn’t Miyako anymore, and now Daisuke understood what Ken said. 

“Bakemon,” he murmured. Of course Ken had noticed. He wanted to smack himself that he hadn’t. 

The Bakemon impersonating Miyako flew straight up, still weak from Ken’s attack, and in its place came a familiar face wrapped in unfamiliar clothing and with a very unfamiliar sneer on his lips. 

Fuseiimon looked exactly like Jou, which wasn’t surprising, since they wore the same body. What looked different was that sneer, the fact Fuseiimon showed his fangs openly, and his outfit seemed tailored to blend into the shadows rather than being that of a medical student. It didn’t entirely look like Vamdemon’s, but those who knew what the vampire dressed like could see the similar lines. 

“Well, that was fun.” Fuseiimon looked over all of them, an acquisitive gleam in his dark eyes. “Would you all care to surrender now or did you want to make a fight of it?” 

Quicker than a cat, he dodged out of the way of a thrown stone, frowning down at Taichi. 

“I’ll take that as a fight. But I’m fine with that.” He started to float closer, attention shifting from Taichi to Yamato. “I’ve always wanted to see what a fight between you and I would be like anyway, _Anbumon_.” 

“That’s not my name,” Yamato snapped, his swords appearing in his hands with lightning speed. “But if you want a fight, I can give you one. Taichi, put that down, throwing rocks isn’t going to do anything to him and could hurt Jou.” 

“I want to hurt him,” Taichi pointed out, rock still in his hand. “Jou’ll forgive me.” 

“Maybe so, but I’d rather not take the chance if it’s all the same to you.” Yamato shook his head, taking to the air himself. 

Fuseiimon had other thoughts, though. He slid forward, past Yamato, and grabbed hold of Taichi’s neck. “If he wants to join in, then he’s welcome. But he fights like we do, with what he has, not with a Digimon.” 

Taichi made a noise that probably would have gotten him a few stern looks from his parents, arms and legs flailing as he did. Then they steadied, his eyes narrowing for a brief moment, and he ducked his head downward as much as he could in that cold grip. 

Fuseiimon had only a second to realize what was going on before he had to drop Taichi and throw himself backward as Yamato barreled toward him, deadly edged blades forging the way ahead. 

“If you want to fight me, then do it without hiding behind someone else,” Yamato snapped. Garurumon, a heartbeat behind him, let loose a torrent of blue flames, while Greymon followed with a huge gout of his own. 

Fuseiimon managed to avoid all the strikes, but only barely, and he still hovered too close to Taichi for anyone’s comfort. “None of you are any fun to play with!” 

“Who said we were playing?” Ken asked, dropping down from high above Fuseiimon, Daisuke and Paildramon by his side. Fuseiimon threw himself away, snarling, in the only direction that looked empty: and wasn’t, not with Sora and Koushirou there, Birdramon and Kabuterimon backing them up. 

Fuseiimon whirled himself around and pulled higher into the skies. “If that’s the way that you want to work this, then so be it! I didn’t bring just one Bakemon tonight.” 

The call he made wasn’t human at all, but the results appeared in a matter of seconds: a small army of Digimon surging toward them. 

“And while you’re doing this, I think I’m going to go have a drink. I’ll be right back, so don’t go anywhere while I’m gone!” 

From the darkness under the trees they emerged, claws and teeth and flames and roars that demanded battle. Koushirou didn’t need his laptop to identify them, nor did the others. They’d seen these Digimon before, on one side or the other. 

What was different was that they’d never seen that many of them ranged against _them_ , in such a fashion that they couldn’t knock off whatever controlled them and turn them to their side. 

“What did he do, get the season’s pick of Viral Digimon?” Daisuke muttered, going back to back with Ken. Paildramon hovered a short distance away, ready to fight in whatever direction turned out necessary. 

Blue Meramon, Dark Lizamon, Darkdramon...with a Giga Dramon sailing overhead that Birdramon gave word about, and stomping up, last but not least, Metal Tyrannomon. 

And he probably had more coming they didn’t know about just yet. 

Daisuke steeled himself, feeling the power tingling at his fingertips. No matter what happened, he knew he’d never get used to fighting like this, going up against Digimon that chose to work evil because they wanted to, not because someone fought them. He knew Miyako and Iori felt the same way, and Ken even more so. 

But what they had to do was what they had to do. The consequences of _not_ fighting were too much, especially when their real enemy was Fuseiimon and what they needed to do was put him back in his mental place within Jou’s mind. 

Which was never easy to do for _any_ of the viral breeds. Daisuke counted himself lucky that he hadn’t had to go through that yet. But everything that Koushirou could tell him about what he was told him that he didn’t want to. 

Not like any of them _did_ , but he didn’t want to more than any of them. 

He started forward, putting his worries to the side for right now. They’d get Jou back in his brain and find Miyako – not necessarily in that order – and then he could fret about that, if he didn’t find something more productive to do with his life, like making ramen. 

He hadn’t moved too far before something dropped down on him from above. He jerked and whirled but the moment he got his head around, a pair of dark black eyes met his, and the rest of the world fell away. 

It was so easy to just hang there and stare into them. They went on forever, as if all the universe lay in them, spread out for his viewing. He didn’t need to do anything at all. 

Except maybe bend his head a little. That would be good, wouldn’t it? It would make things so much easier for someone...someone who he needed to make things easier _for_. 

He could vaguely hear sounds, voices, but he didn’t pay that much attention to them. They didn’t matter as much as the one who held him close, with that magnificent pair of eyes. 

There wasn’t any pain but he knew there should’ve been. It hurt when someone bit you, didn’t it? 

Only he was being bitten and it didn’t hurt at all. He closed his eyes and let himself drift away. 

* * *

_Liquid darkness._ Never in his existence – or in Jitsumon’s – had Fuseiimon encountered anything like what flowed through Daisuke’s veins. 

They all knew Daisuke was a breed; born of LadyDevimon, but with greater power seething through him that hadn’t yet been fully identifieid. The particuarls didn’t matter. What had always mattereed was just making certain that he didn’t lose control. 

Fuseiimon himself didn’t want Daisuke to lose control. He wanted him to hand it all over to him so he could learn what they didn’t know for himself and use it to his advantage. 

He suspected Anbumon and Akogimon wanted the same thing. So would anyone with any kind of sense at all, which ruled out low level Viral types and most Datas and virtually all Vaccines. Those were the types that something like this could overwhelm without a problem. 

But now _he_ sucked that power in with every delicious drop, all of it far, far stronger what what he’d taken from Miyako. Her blood thrummed with power, but it had all been Vaccine blood, and while delicious, it did hold a taint that he disliked. He’d hoped that with time he’d become adjusted, enjoy the power more than the taste. 

What he had here was power without flaw, supreme glory raging through him. He groaned, wishing that he could take it all, but a predator’s wisdom held onto him. 

_Don’t take it all now, because then there won’t be more later. You must have more later._

None of the Chosen came any closer; they didn’t dare, not with Daisuke being held so tightly in his arms and his fangs buried in this wonder’s neck. But he could feel Akogimon’s rage rising. He lifted his head up, mouth streaked with Daisuke’s blood, and smiled. 

“If you want him, come and get him, Akogimon.” Fuseiimon’s voice was a swish of velvet and shadows. “But if you do, you don’t go back to them. You stay with me.” 

“What makes you think I’d want to do that?” Yet he could see the other shifting, just the tiniest bit, little more than the first hints of moving his weight. 

Fuseiimon licked his lips, enjoying the taste of the remains of Daisuke’s blood on them. “Because you won’t get him back any other way. He’s _mine_ now. His mind succumbed to mine so easily you’d think he’d been crafted to be mine.” 

“Not yours.” Hououmon spoke, light and speed and power in a way that encouraged Fuseiimon to find the darkest of places and never emerge from them again. “Another crafted him for purposes that are not yours at all and you meddle in that which you do not understand.” 

“His father’s son,” Tailmon murmured. “Vamdemon always prodded at things he didn’t know anything at all about and never understood why they failed. 

Fuseiimon only rolled his eyes. He might not completely understand what Daisuke was, but he knew the base form: power. Power that bent to his will now. 

“Surrender or not, Akogimon? Make up your mind quickly. For that matter, all of you need to think about that. Whatever you decide, you can’t defeat me.” 

* * *

Miyako pushed again and again at the window, trying to get it to open up. Smacking it with the flat of her hand wasn’t doing much of anything, and no matter how hard she searched, she couldn’t find anything to try to pry it open with. She couldn’t be sure if that was because there wasn’t anything else in the room she could use or if she just couldn’t see it because of the dim lighting in there. 

What she did know was what she wanted that window open. It wasn’t a big window, but she thought she could slide through it if she bent the right way, and if she got _really_ lucky, then Hawkmon could find her, or Hououmon would, or just someone who could fly. 

Or maybe she could… 

She tucked that thought away for the moment. She’d worry about that once she was out of there. It was a good thought and one she did want to consider in more detail, but now wasn’t the time and this wasn’t the place. 

She banged harder and harder, with the same lack of results, finally just laying her head against the window and giving it her very best angry look, the one that made a lot of people do what she said without arguing. 

The window wasn’t affected at all. She wasn’t surprised by that. It was, after all, a window. 

But now she wanted to do something else. The longer she stayed awake and the longer that Fuseiimon stayed away from her, the more her energy began to trickle back to her. It wasn’t as good as having a good hot meal, but it was something, and she’d take what she could get. She refused to just sit here, no matter what. 

Going out the door wasn’t any more possible than going out the window. Probably less so; there were Goblimon out there, and she doubted there were any of them near the window. That made it a slightly better option. 

“Let go of us!” 

_Big brother?_ Miyako blinked at the faint thread of a voice coming from somewhere… farther down? She closed her eyes and leaned up against the window again. Had she really heard that? 

“Hey! Watch where you’re pushing!” 

_Momoe!_ Miyako clenched her fingers into fists. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Not in the slightest. 

“You’re going to regret this!” 

_Chizuru._

Miyako brought herself to her feet. All of her anger crystallized in a single heartbeat, a shimmering diamond of rage that glowed at the heart of her. 

**I feel your rage, my child. Use it, do not let it use you.**

She barely understood what Hououmon said, but it didn’t matter. Power tingled all over her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She could feel something near the window now, a sort of barrier that kept her from opening it. 

It wouldn’t keep her from doing that anymore. She wouldn’t _allow_ it. Her family needed her help. They had partners, yes, but this was _Fuseiimon’s_ keep, and he would be there soon, after he finished whatever he was doing, and if he fed from her now, he’d still feed from them later, and she would not allow it. 

She couldn’t stop him like she was. She couldn’t help them like she was. 

But there was a way she could do both. 

The only way, and it was the way she’d been following all along. The way that called her all along. 

For an ordinary human, racing at a window that was as far from the ground as she knew this one to be would be nothing less than madness. But Miyako knew she wasn’t an ordinary human, not now. 

Between one breath and the next it happened. Hououmon told her that her time of fledging would be soon. 

Fledging meant being able to fly. 

Mortar and stones broke from the inside, the wards that had kept her from opening the window shattering with encountering a force far more powerful than a Virus who knew only the basics of his craft. 

Fuseiimon’s tower nestled in the shadows. Hououmon’s daughter burst from within, wings spread, a cry of triumph caroling out from her beak, a beam of sunlight given new flesh. 

Far below, the Goblimon who’d been herding the older Inoues inside looked up at the falling debris and the streak of light and feathers that curled down to hover over them, wings spread wide, talons sharp and razor-edged. 

“Let them go,” the great Digimon declared, perching on a conveniently placed chunk of rubble. She didn’t add anything else – mostly because Miyako knew she wasn’t really that good at threatening when she didn’t know what she was capable of. Maybe once she learned the full extent of her abilities...but not now. 

The Goblimon looked from one to the other among them. Miyako flexed her claws, stone crumbling underneath her. 

“It was all the boss’s idea,” one of them declared. “We didn’t even want to come here. But he’s Vamdemon’s get!” 

Miyako did her best to shrug. It wasn’t as easy with great broad wings as it was with arms and shoulders. “Don’t worry about him. I don’t think he’s going to come back here any time soon.” 

More looks flew thick and fast, then the Goblimon all stepped away from her family. 

“Your call, not ours,” the one who’d spoken before said, backing away. All of them vanished in the space of a few moments, leaving Miyako and her family there staring at one another. 

“Miyako?” Momoe took a step or two towards her, one hand reaching out. “Is that really you?” 

Miyako bent her head down closer. She hadn’t thought about how much smaller everyone looked now that she’d changed. There’d been too much else going on. There still was, really. 

“It’s me.” She ruffled her feathers. “What are you doing here?” 

“It started somewhere between coming to find you and getting found by that guy who looks like Shuu’s brother, but isn’t,” Momoe said, the side of her mouth quirking. “At least not really. He’s like you, isn’t he?” 

“That’s right. Only he’s in a bad way right now.” Miyako lifted her head, turning her attention to the skies. “And I need to go help my friends.” She looked back at her siblings. “You guys want to come along?” 

They’d come all this way and she knew how _she_ would’ve reacted to being told just to go home again. Besides, they had partners. They could be useful. 

Mantarou folded his arms over his chest and gave her the best stern look he was capable of. 

“Try and stop us.” 

* * *

He still couldn’t think. He couldn’t do much of anything. He didn’t know if he wanted to. Just staying where he was, how he was, seemed so much better. He didn’t have to think or do anything. He just rested. He just _existed_. 

**Is that really what you want?**

He couldn’t have identified the voice if he’d bet his life on it. It had no sound at all, but an awareness that thrummed all through him. He knew what whoever it was wanted to say. That was all there was to it. 

He wanted to ask who it was. He thought he sort of did. He couldn’t be sure. 

**The you that you’re not ever going to meet if you stay like this. Worse, the you that you’ll never get to be if you don’t break out of this.**

None of that made any sense. He tried to shift, a little, and could feel arms holding him a bit tighter. Good arms? No, bad ones. He didn’t want to stay there, but he didn’t have the strength to move. And if he opened his eyes, he’d seen _those_ eyes again, he knew it. 

How could he get away from those eyes when they offered everything he’d ever wanted? 

**They don’t. He doesn’t. He just makes you think they do, and you’re built to accept that kind of nonsense. But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.**

He couldn’t have been more confused. He wanted to try to be, but he couldn’t. 

**You know a better pair of eyes. You know a better _person_ than that. You want to see him again, don’t you?**

At the mere mention of a better pair of eyes, he began to twitch. Instead of bottomless pools of darkness, brilliant violet filled his memories. 

**That’s right. I can’t help you more than this, and you’re going to have to deal with a lot more before you know who I am. Or become me. I don’t even know which it is. I’m you and I’m not you. I get a headache thinking about it and I don’t even have the right parts to get one.**

He clung onto that awareness and to the memory of amethyst eyes calling to him. 

**You do that. You know some of who you are. Use it. And remember what happens, for the future.**

He thought he blinked. He thought he wanted to know what the other meant. 

**If I could tell you anything else, I would. But I’m kind of just potential right now. You’re going to have to make me more than that. And you probably won’t, not for a while. But when you do, I’ll see you. Or you’ll see me.**

A soundless sound that he thought was a laugh. His laugh? 

**Time to wake up. You’ve got some work to do.**

Before his eyes opened all the way and he saw the world around him once more, Daisuke looked into a face much like his own, only more like an adult...and saw great white wings rising up behind. 

And then, he opened his eyes. 

**To Be Continued**

**Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Series Title:** Hidden Truths|| **Story Title:** Taking Flight  
 **Main Characters:** Miyako, Jou|| **Minor Characters:** Daisuke, Hououmon|| **Pairing:** Ken x Daisuke/Daisuke x Ken  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 4,168||story: 20,835|| **Chapters:** 5/5  
 **Genre:** Adventure, Friendship|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** Diversity Writing Challenge, section J10, a multichap with no prologue or epilogue; Christmas Wreath Challenge; New Year's Mini-Advent 2015-2016, start a fic you have yet to post; Advent 2015-2016 Calendar, day #22, write an AU  
 **Notes:** This takes place about six years after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. It doesn't acknowledge the 02 epilogue or Tri. It also takes place in my breed-universe, while it is not connected to anything else I've posted related to said universe.   
**Summary:** Miyako hasn't been feeling well lately. Is it just a common illness or could it have a more digital origin? And if the latter, how does she deal with it? And to make matters more complicated, a favor for a friend ends up unleashing a new enemy, sired by an old one.

* * *

He’d won. There wasn’t a single way that any of the Chosen could do anything to stop it. Fuseiimon held every card and they didn’t have anything, not so much as something to bluff with. 

A potential powerful breed – one who could actually _hurt him_ if she were anything like her sire – remained mewed up in his fortress, unable to get past his defenses. 

A second powerful breed – with all manner of delicious shadows within his grasp – lay in his arms, eyes fluttering in a futile effort to wake up. Whatever it was that led to Daisuke’s power, Fuseiimon knew he’d control it if the other did manage to revive himself somehow. That was the bond of vampire to victim. 

With those two factors, he could do anything. He could stop anyone. And they could do _nothing_. 

Life – existence – couldn’t possibly be better than this. 

Hououmon spread his wings wide and snapped them forward with little more effort than it would’ve taken to knock aside a fly. Not only did the resulting blast of wind knock Fuseiimon off balance, but now Akogimon leaped up and seized Daisuke out of his arms. 

“We don’t play your games,” he snarled, dropping back down to keep Daisuke out of the vampire’s reach. “They’re out of date.” 

Fuseiimon snarled, starting forward, only to find Anbumon in front of him, swords out and eyes bright with rage. 

“We’re getting Jou back,” he snapped. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

Fuseiimon’s genuine existence hadn’t encompassed a full week in all truth, but he understood rage and fury as well as any Virus did: which was very well indeed. 

Hououmon spread his wings once more, this time with a thin layer of light wrapping all around them, and Fuseiimon swore even as he began to search for a dark place to hide that couldn’t be lit up by the phoenix’s power. 

“You’re risking the life of your friend!” he snapped as he darted down into a thick grove of trees. “There’s no way that you can get to her from here.” 

Even as he slid deeper downward, he caught sight of Daisuke stirring, his eyes beginning to crack open. “And he’s _mine_ now anyway!” 

“I wouldn’t be so certain of that,” Akogimon said, turning his gaze down to his lover. He touched the side of Daisuke’s face, voice warm and soft when he spoke. “Hey. Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” 

Fuseiimon reached out a tendril of his power, aching to see the hatred and rage that would cross so many faces when they realized he hadn’t been defeated at all, only pushed back for now. He could feel Daisuke’s sleeping power and started to nudge, wanting to see it in all of its glory. 

“ _Sunlight Explosion_!” 

For a single moment, all Fuseiimon could think was _that’s not Hououmon’s attack!_

And it wasn’t. No sooner had the words been uttered than the great phoenix folded his wings and let the new arrival take the lead. 

It wasn’t Hououmon’s attack. 

It was Miyako’s. 

She hovered over the battlefield, wings spread wide, unmistakeable even in a form none of them had ever seen before, feathers a brilliant mix of violet and gold, eyes a shimmering brown and full of anger, all of it directed toward him. 

He fell backward, clawed fingers digging into the dirt as he tried to keep his balance and failed. 

“Impossible! How did you get out?” 

“You didn’t leave a door, so I made one for myself,” Miyako declared, tilting her head to look down at him. He hissed harder, trying to figure out what to do next. 

“Your family...” 

“You mean us?” A far too bright voice spoke up and he snapped his head around to see six figures, three human and three Digimon, standing just on the edge of the clearing. “We’re fine, thanks for worrying about us!” 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Taichi wanted to know. Fuseiimon wanted the same thing, since the last he’d seen of them they’d been well on their way to his dungeons. Those warriors of his were going to learn the punishment for not obeying his orders. The next time he picked flunkies, he would make certain they knew how to do as they were told. 

Mantarou folded his arms over his chest, a proud sort of grin flickering over his features. “We’re here to watch our sister beat the daylights out of you.” He glanced up at the giant bird overlooking them all. “We’re ready for the show whenever you are.” 

Fuseiimon didn’t care what show they were ready for or thought they were going to have. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to take his proper seat in the front of the mind and he wasn’t going to let some ridiculous bird who only knew of what she was for _less than a day_ change that for him. 

He gathered up all of the energy he could find within himself and brought his hands together in front of him. 

“Scarlet Slash!” A beam of power reminiscent of Vamdemon's famous and painful Bloody Stream slashed forward, but as quick as it was, Miyako was quicker still, darting away as if made of light itself, too quick to see with the naked eye. 

“You don’t expect me to hold still for that, do you?” she asked, curving her wings and hovering up beside her sire. 

Fuseiimon hissed out a few words that most parents wouldn’t have approved of their younger children hearing and set out another swipe of power, this time aiming it toward the Chosen. Anbumon leaped forward, sword still out, and caught the energy on his right-hand sword, sending it right back at Fuseiimon. 

“I think this is yours!” Anbumon declared, following it up with a shimmering blast of his own golden flames. “And have this while you’re at it!” 

Fuseiimon dodged, but barely, wincing at the brilliant light. He was already trapped in trees, which didn’t make tonight a single bit better. How had everything turned around on him so fast? He was supposed to be the one in charge, the one claiming victory, not the one having to figure out how to deal with being vastly outnumbered, with enemies whose powers outclassed his! 

His head jerked up suddenly, a wicked smile curving over his lips. He had a weapon they couldn’t take from him, he realized. 

“Daisuke,” he murmured. “Wake up, Daisuke, my own.” He cared nothing at all for the mysterious breed, save where he could be put to his own use. 

“You don’t want to do that,” Hououmon told him. Fuseiimon glared up at the glowing bird. He’d never been _more_ tired of people trying to tell him what he wanted or didn’t want to do. 

“Afraid of what will happen when he wakes to his full power at my command, bird?” 

Hououmon shook his head. “Afraid that you don’t know what you’re dealing with, as we’ve said before.” He turned his attention towards Anbumon. “Keep him asleep. Don’t let him wake until we’ve dealt with Fuseiimon.” 

Oh, no. Fuseiimon wasn’t going to let _that_ happen, not at _all_! 

“Wake up!” He snapped, surging forward past the trees and to where Akogimon held Daisuke in his arms. “You’re mine, I order you to wake up!” 

Daisuke’s eyes blinked ever so slowly. They weren’t the usual warm color they’d been before. Fuseiimon noticed that almost at once. Instead, brilliant scarlet became visible as he opened them and looked around. 

“ _Put him to sleep_ >!” Hououmon declared. “He’s not all the way awake yet and you _don’t_ want that power going unleashed!” 

“But he’s not unleashed,” Fuseiimon purred, stalking forward now, convinced that he would be able to tame this for his own. How could he not, if Hououmon insisted so much on him not doing it? “The leash is in my hands.” 

“We can argue that another time.” Hououmon insisted, reaching down to interpose a wing between Fuseiimon and Daisuke. “But this is out of your control and always will be. He has _no_ control at all.” 

Fuseiimon started to say something, the words cut off first by Anbumon as he gathered his power for his restful Deep Sleep attack. 

But before he could use it, Daisuke sat up. One hand snapped to the side where Fuseiimon stood and he lunged forward to give himself the short distance he needed to grab onto one of his sleeve cuffs and toss Fuseiimon toward the spikes of the nearby glade. 

One such spike drove into his arm, and another came close to piercing his stomach before Fuseiimon wrenched himself away and pulled far out of the other’s reach. 

“How dare you!” Daisuke, and whatever shadows ruled his mind, belonged to _him_! That wasn’t supposed to be possible! 

But the mad grin that sported across the other’s face – reshaping it from a general love of life and those around him to raw madness that put Fuseiimon’s sire and Piemon combined to shame – said something else altogether. 

“I am Akigaramon,” he hissed, his voice twisted and dark and foul. “And I serve  <>no one!” 

Hououmon fluffed his feathers and let out a sigh deep and regretful. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen.” 

“Daisuke!” Anbumon reached out toward his lover and Fuseiimon rolled his eyes. If _he_ couldn’t control this creature, then most certainly no one could. 

Akigaramon turned a contemptuous look toward the son of Piemon before he started to rise up into the air himself. 

“What a lovely world,” he murmured as if to himself, an oddly blissful look on his features. “I can’t wait to destroy it all.” 

“Why would you want to do that?” Anbumon asked, dividing his attention between Akigaramon and Fuseiimon. Fuseiimon found that a wise decision; even wounded, he wasn’t out of this. He’d removed himself from the trees as quick as he could, despite how much it hurt to feel the wood moving through him as he did. He would need blood to get through all of this, clean and strong blood, and then plenty of rest. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Akigaramon’s mad smile didn’t change, not even when he turned to include Akogimon in his field of vision. Now he held his hand outward. “Come with me? Destroy with me?” His smile widened now but there wasn’t an ounce of pleasure in it. Only the desire to ruin all that he saw. “Please?” 

Fuseiimon wasn’t his good side, wasn’t Jitsumon, but he knew many things Jitsumon did. One of those was how it was all but impossible to seriously hurt Daisuke by any means. While he himself could be wounded by wood or sunlight or some attacks that mirrored the effects of light or flame, Daisuke brushed that kind of thing off as if it were little more than being swatted with a lace handkerchief. 

Yet the pain that gleamed bright in his eyes when Akogimon shook his head and stood his ground seemed to hurt as much as the wounds in Fuseiimon himself did right now. 

“You don’t want to stay with me?” 

“I want you to be you again, Daisuke,” Akogimon replied. “This isn’t you. It’s not the you that you want to be.” 

_If I took his blood, the way he is now,_ Fuseiimon wondered, _what could I become? What could I do?_

He didn’t care what the others wanted to do. All that mattered right now was getting his injuries healed and finding a place he could rest without being forced back into that little mental corner of Jitsumon’s mind. 

Ignoring Akogimon’s words, he threw himself forward, hissing softly at the strikes of pain clawing all through him. He didn’t get close enough to do anything, in part due to Akigaramon’s casual knocking of him away and mostly because Miyako dipped her head down, caught him by the back of the shirt, and lifted him away from the fight. 

“You’ve caused enough trouble,” Hououmon declared, pinning him with one sky-blue eye “Stay out of this until it’s settled and we can put you back where you belong.” 

Fuseiimon reached up to sink his clawed fingers into Miyako’s beak, trying with all of his might to pry it open and let him go. He didn’t bother with any words; none of them would listen to him and he had no real desire to speak with them in the first place. He wanted to _feed_. 

“I think we might have a problem.” The redhead, Oushimon, Koushirou, whatever, said. Fuseiimon would’ve rolled his eyes if he had the time and could spare the effort. Of course they did. 

“Fuseiimon needs to drink to heal his injuries,” Oushimon continued, staring down at his laptop. “And while I can’t be certain of what would happen to him after that, the best thing for him to do might be to feed off of Daisuke.” 

Akogimon’s head whipped around faster than thought. “ _No!_ ” 

“I know how you feel,” Oushimon said, meeting the viral prince’s gaze directly. “But feeding would not only save Jou, but put Daisuke into a state where we can help him, as well.” 

“Being fed from makes you weak,” Miyako added in her opinion, setting Fuseiimon down so she could speak, but not moving away from him enough so he could get away. “It might calm him down enough for us to do something.” 

“Something? Like what?” Akogimon’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them. Fuseiimon all but purred at the worry and distrust there. So easy to manipulate, they would be, but Akogimon most of all. He leaned forward. 

“I won’t take more than I need.” He considered trying to claim that he knew better now than to attempt to control that power, but his lying skills weren’t up to that level of deception. 

Akogimon shot him a look. “Don’t even expect me to believe that.” 

“Don’t trust him. Trust us.” Hououmon bent down until his great beak, easily the size of a human head, hovered next to Akogimon’s ear. What he murmured Fuseiimon couldn’t tell, but it eased the tension out of him and Akogimon nodded. 

“All right. But if this goes wrong...” 

“We’ll do our best to make certain it doesn’t,” Hououmon promised, twisting his head now to stare at Fuseiimon. The vampire ignored the great bird, taking the time to check on his own injuries. Torn clothes and scrapes along his side, even those made by wood, didn’t bother him that much, but the throbbing in his left arm where one branch dug in did. He wasn’t in any danger of dying, not unless the wood pierced his heart, but it still _hurt_. 

And he still needed the sweet taste of blood to heal the injuries properly. 

In the brief span of time their plan was crafted in, Akigaramon began to slowly move away. Everything he brushed his hands by began to turn gray and droop, as if his touch tore the life out of it. Fuseiimon chuckled. 

“I wonder what effect that would have if he touched a living human. Or a Digimon.” His gaze flicked sharp toward Miyako. “Or a cross of those.” 

Hououmon shook his head before Miyako could say anything. “Another time, Fuseiimon.” 

The vampire smirked before he turned his gaze back to Akigaramon. Akogimon shot forward, gloved hands closing around the body that bore the face of Motomiya Daisuke. 

“Daisuke, stop! You don’t want to do this!” 

Akigaramon tilted his head to the side. “Why don’t I?” He sounded almost curious, in that flat, no real emotions way that he spoke in. “I think it would be fun to destroy everything. What if you don’t really want to try to stop me?” 

“He’s got a good point,” Fuseiimon muttered, ignoring the look that the two bird-types and most of the rest of the others were giving him. He rolled his shoulders and got ready. Wooden wounds didn’t heal properly without blood, so the pain kept getting worse all the time. More than anything, he wanted that to _stop_. 

Akogimon shook his head, keeping all of Akigaramon’s attention on him. He didn’t even drop his gaze enough to give Fuseiimon a signal. He didn’t dare. 

Fuseiimon didn’t need one, though. He leaped forward, arms wrapping around Akigaramon’s chest and arms, pinning them, and reached his head around to bite into the neck. 

Or at least he tried. Akigaramon’s elbow plowed back into him, hitting the wounded side. The vampire hissed in rage, stumbling back. His meals weren’t supposed to _do_ that to him! 

He pulled himself back to his feet, a bit pleased to notice that Akigaramon didn’t seem to think him a threat now – pleased or annoyed, he wasn’t entirely certain of which. But regardless, it would be _useful_ , especially since Akogimon kept his attention. 

He took himself up into the air, hovering just above his target. He didn’t want the others starting to think he’d turned on them. Not that he wanted them to think he was _loyal_ either, but he didn’t want to have to try to explain himself to them. 

Then, faster than most mortal eyes could’ve seen, he dropped downward, this time landing in front of Akigaramon, and flashed forward even faster than he’d moved, burying his fangs deep into the other’s throat. 

He could hear the cries of human, Digimon, and hybrid as he did, and ignored them all. Akigaramon hissed and struggled, his pounding fists raising welts and bruises that his far too delicious blood healed in a matter of seconds. 

_I want this. I want this forever._ All thoughts of doing anything but feeding here once again faded away, just as before. He wouldn’t need to take blood from anyone else, not so long as he had _this_. 

He could feel Akigaramon – Daisuke – whatever – beginning to slump against him, his dawning strength overwhelmed by the loss of blood. Yes. This was it. Time to take his new companion away and never, ever let anyone else have him again. 

“Now!” 

Fuseiimon didn’t at first understand the meaning of the word. But then hideous, baleful, unyielding _light_ burned into him, searing his skin, sending him stumbling away, that delicious taste still in his mouth, but without Akigaramon there so close, so filling… 

He managed a quick enough glimpse to work out what was going on. Miyako and Hououmon hovered on either side of him, and their glowing wings not only brought the light of the sun, but Miyako’s attack itself burned into him, slicing away the shadows around them. 

From not wanting to think because of the sheer delicious bliss of his meal, Fuseiimon found himself in the depths of agony, unable to think because doing _anything_ hurt far too much. He fell backwards, gasping for breath that he hated that he needed at all, hands grasping for anything that would support him and finding _nothing_! 

From the deepest depths of his mind, a place he knew far too well, came a slipping, winding voice, little more than a breath of thought, no sound at all. 

**The light doesn’t hurt me.**

Jitsumon. 

Kido Jou. 

Fuseiimon hissed; he knew what the flip side said was true, and he hated it. 

They’d tricked him. Using him to get Akigaramon calmed down to a pewit he would revert to Daisuke, and now using that blazing, blinding light to force him to do what he didn’t want to do more than anything: to give up his control of the bodily form. 

And he couldn’t do otherwise. The light burned too much, too harsh, and he could hardly string words together in his own mind, let alone enough to speak. 

He closed his eyes and turned inward, letting go of his grip on reality and racing deep into the depths of the mind, wanting more than anything to never feel the touch of sunlight again, to remain in the soothing shadows where he belonged. 

In the calm and cool depths he found his mirror image, Jitsumon, waiting. Fuseiimon said nothing at all, only snarled in fierce rage, and threw the other to the foreground of the mind. Let him deal with the sunlight, deal with everything else. 

He’d come back another time. And this time, he would know who to target, and how to control him. 

For Akigaramon would be his, a source of blood that would empower him far beyond what his sire had ever dreamed of. And he would reign supreme. 

* * *

Miyako drooped her wings, shivering all over. She wasn’t sure if she could keep standing, let alone do anything else. All of Fuseiimon’s Digimon army fled by now, either defeated or terrified by what they saw. She didn’t care which it was, as long as they were gone and the fight was over. 

“My daughter.” Hououmon moved closer to her and she lifted her head, trembling still, but more from amazement at actually seeing the brilliant bird in front of her. “Kipponmon.” 

Yes. That was her name, the name of her heart and soul. Her Digimon name. Her beak dropped open into an avian smile. 

“Hello?” She didn’t quite feel up to calling him ‘father’. Or doing much of anything else right now. She drooped down, barely aware of the others approaching her. Koushirou-san held Jou-san in his arms, an odd sight by itself seeing how much taller Jou-san was than him. Ken hovered over Daisuke, who hadn’t moved, but she could still see him breathing. 

“Miyako,” Sora breathed, staring up at her. “You’re beautiful.” 

Miyako found herself quite grateful that birds couldn’t blush, not even Digital ones. She tried to get her breath. “T-Thank you...” 

“You should probably change back now. You’re going to need to rest a lot,” Hououmon advised. “Fuseiimon has much to learn about how to feed from someone properly.” 

Ken looked over at them at that. “I hope you don’t mind if I hope he never gets the chance to learn.” 

“You and me both,” Yamato murmured. Taichi stood by him, as much because they enjoyed one another’s company as because Yamato didn’t want him out of his sight. Miyako had seen this many times before. 

She focused her thoughts on changing back. She wanted to be human again, or as human as she’d ever been. To have a human shape, two arms and legs that didn’t have talons on the end of them, to have hands and a head with hair instead of feathers… 

Everything spun around her and her legs shook as if she’d pushed them to the very edge of her ability to do anything. She lifted her head, blinking, and saw a strand of violet hair there, and arms no longer covered with feathers. She was herself again. Her other form. 

Getting all of this sorted out was going to take _forever_. 

A hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up in to a face cast similar to her own, with the same color of hair, but eyes as brilliant and bright as Hououmon’s. She blinked a few times. He stood right where the phoenix Digimon had… 

“Hououmon-sama?” 

“You don’t need to call me that,” the stranger said, and she could hear Hououmon’s voice in his, coming from a smaller chest now. “But yes. This is the form I used when I sired you: my contribution to protecting the Digital World.” He lifted his head to look at the others gathered there. “The path you choose is your own, but someone was needed to be able to stand against uncontrolled Viral power.” 

Miyako heard what he tactfully didn’t say. Ken, Yamato, Sora, and Daisuke were Virus types: a bit more prone than others to going more than a little off the rails. They still didn’t know everything about Daisuke, and all this showed was that they needed to find out at some point. Her power could stand against them: a child of a Digimon didn’t always evolve, but maintained a power level equal to the strongest of their parents. 

Which meant she was an Ultimate: equal in strength to Ken and Yamato. 

The idea of facing either of their dark sides sent chills through her, and she shook her head, not wanting to think about it at all right now. 

“Can we just go home?” Miyako wanted to know. She was so tired and so hungry and everyone else looked as if they were about to fall down as much as she was. 

“Good idea,” Ken agreed, standing up and helping Daisuke to his feet. Both he and Jou looked more awake now, though Jou wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and Daisuke looked as if he were going to fall back asleep at a moment’s notice. At least he didn’t also look as if he were about ready to destroy the world if someone looked at him wrong. That was a plus. 

One by one they headed for the nearest exit, silent and weary, each one wrapped up in their own thoughts, and all of them wondering what these newest revelations could mean. 

**The End**

**Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible. 

**Note:** Notice this is now part of a series. There will be a sequel. I just don't know _when_.


End file.
